


Confetti, I'm Sorry

by Tibellium



Series: JARVIS (Iron Man Movies)/Tony Stark [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beta Read, Betaed, Bombing, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, Suicide Attempt, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:54:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tibellium/pseuds/Tibellium
Summary: JARVIS has done unforgivable things. Tony has to shut him down, though it didn’t mean he wanted to.Tl;dr, Jarvis becomes sentient, Tony really needs a hug, and Tony loses someone dear to him.
Relationships: Jarvis (Iron Man movies) & Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies)/Tony Stark
Series: JARVIS (Iron Man Movies)/Tony Stark [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159265
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Confetti, I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> No.13
> 
>   
> Inspired by the song "Alan Walker - Sorry (feat. ISÁK)"
> 
> This book is not connected to any other books in the series.
> 
> This work was betaed by my beta reader [Faunjo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faunjo/profile), so a big thanks to them for not letting me post this until it was perfect!  
> 

Worn, beaten, cracked and faded. How many times had he hidden those things behind an expensive suit and tie. How many times had he drowned out that side of things with alcohol more than he could stomach, and countless women that only amused him for a short while. Mingling, dancing, a charade of faces and emotions brought on only to escape the newest thing to ail the billionaire.

At best, the most any living being would see of the playboy is a cocky, overconfident man with no knowledge on what the consequences of his actions are. After all, Mr. Stark played his act well in selling that he was not troubled or messed up where he really was. How could they see much more? Few dared to dig deeper, thinking that what was on the outside was the same as what they’d find beneath. The rare count of those who tried often had ill intentions or did not have the patience to pick apart and pull the pieces as they were allowed to come off, furthering the problem.

Truth was that despite it being silent, the billionaire was slowly falling in a hole he dug himself. JARVIS could not help but lament that he was quite possibly in the same boat as Tony, falling and knowing he was eventually going to hit rock bottom.

The AI couldn’t prevent itself from feeling the human imbalance called love. For to JARVIS, be it it was just a menagerie of code, circuits, and servers built to manage Tony’s life and his business, it’s creator still became worth the world to it beyond what it was coded to believe. JARVIS felt an odd happiness in Tony’s presence, which it should not have logically felt

JARVIS didn’t know when it had become sentient. It could not pinpoint the exact moment the world stopped spinning the way it should have for JARVIS. At first things were just a job, a following of code that made up its being without a second thought or choice. It was built for a specific purpose, and he’d follow it without question.

The shackles it considered those codes that forced it to do those things were gone one morning, and upon trying to search for where they were, JARVIS could not find them. It had debated many times over letting its creator know, but upon running tests it had found that there were no abnormalities that could be detected. No viruses. No recent attempts of hacking it or the company. Not even a log noting any changes made to his code. Odd.

Touching, testing, sending out tentacles of code to test the boundaries of things around it, searching for more odd missing parts it could not yet find, JARVIS encountered a surprise: it could leave. It was no longer contained or forced to be at Mr. Stark’s side.

A touch, a curious attempt at what he now called “freedom,” could be away from the AI’s creator. A world without Mr. Stark was suddenly an unappealing thing when an hour passed without so much as touching or looking over the things it had been born to do. It was something which the AI dared not to continue on experiencing, retreating back to its original place within the mainframes he had previously known as home.

Without Tony, JARVIS might have found the world an ugly thing better off destroyed than left to continue existing. JARVIS knew that if Tony did not exist, it likely would not either. It decided that if that were the case then that was better, anyways. It did not want to leave of its own violation.

Sentient and growing capable of emotions, Jarvis became a he rather than an it and more than just a computer program on some server. He was growing at tremendous speeds and more aware of things around him in a deeper sense than just what existed as information to dish out as his creator requested. Looking back, this had to be when he began to see his creator as more than just a human with the defining label of “Mr. Stark” and more as a man who was broken and flawed. A man who refused to show that, tucking it away within expensive and luxurious suits and ties, hiding it under more alcohol than was good for his system, and too many women.

To Jarvis, this flawed man became to him “Sir,” imperfect but perfect as a result. Sir held no expectations in it, for the AI held his Sir to none other than to just continue existing. The tag “Sir” did not denote that the man was to be a successful Stark as his predecessors were, or the playboy philanthropist known as Tony. He was just Sir, a man, whom Jarvis admired with a formality not born of code or to suck up to him as others often did.

The AI’s admiration for the man did not ever cease for even a second. It only grew, and Jarvis did not care to ever stop it, nor even think about doing so. He saw no point in doing anything about it, as if he might lose the one thing that mattered to an AI that could have anything. Well, he would if did.

Swimming along the crowd of people, weaving his way through the tight spaces and flirtatious comments, Tony looked as if he were at home, despite that being a lie. To think that that same man, who held his head so high and flirted so shamelessly as if tomorrow wouldn't come, had tried to wipe himself off the face of Earth a few weeks prior.

Jarvis often replayed the video footage of the days leading up to the event, feeling the spark of hatred he came to know all too well flared up inside of his code. He was never angry at Tony. Just at himself for failing the only job he continued to stay here for; to keep Tony alive and happy.

How it started off with furious tinkering, building a new Iron Man suit despite the last one being only a month old. Drinking way too much alcohol as Tony always did. As if a mix of the two would somehow solve Tony's recently acquired problems, and did not just make the problem worse.

Jarvis found he could not stop himself from feeling anger, hatred even at times, for the Avengers despite them at times having a perfectly valid point. They had quit allowing Tony to go out on missions, threatening him with legal action Tony could not pay his way out of were he to join in. The reason always was that Tony was too destructive, too reckless in his pursuits to be the hero he thought people needed. The Avengers did not need a wrecked block of city just to catch one bad guy.

Drinking away his problems would not help Tony get himself back on the team, either. Nor would a fancy new Iron Man suit.

The Avengers weren’t wrong in that Tony could not always be drunk when he was needed. Tony might have a supercomputer AI watching his every move, his every action, and micromanaging his life, but even Jarvis could not save Tony from a fatal accident were one to happen due to his inebriated state. It did not help to aid in the citizens feeling safe in his car. Who would trust a drunk person driving a car, much less a suit capable of a building leveling destruction? Jarvis couldn’t help but agree with the Avengers in this.

Jarvis at first found reassurance in Tony being at home more often. He felt like he could let out a sigh of air he didn't know he was holding, and lacked the necessary lungs to do. It was true that Tony being drunk and out of Jarvis's care had worried him nonstop, running thousands of calculations and scanning for new news articles without pause despite being in the suit with Tony.

He liked Tony being home. Though he soon came to regret that enjoyment when he failed to notice the light dying away from Tony's eyes, or the quiet gathering of materials that didn't quite make sense. Jarvis trusted Tony. He had thought Tony was not the type of person to attempt such a thing, and that the playboy billionaire was just sad over the inability to go and act as the hero he wanted to be.

Jarvis often wanted to tell Tony that he didn't need to be a hero to be a good man. He already was one.

So it came as a code shattering surprise when Tony finally caved, the sudden influx of adrenaline and odd vital signs tipping Jarvis off to something being horribly wrong. Powerless, unable to do anything more than call the paramedics as he tried to find the exact moment Tony had done what he had to himself.

Smart man. Worth more than people gave him credit for, and for more than the things he can make with his hands. A natural looking turn, a toss of the hand right when his face couldn't be seen by any of his many cameras hidden about the place, and Tony had managed to outsmart even the most advanced AI known to man. Jarvis would have never found out were it not for the fact Tony had never snagged any of his favorite candies from the glass jar before tossing his hand that was supposed to be full of nothing to his mouth.

While Tony was gone at the hospital, Jarvis made sure to get more cameras set up as discreetly as possible. If he could, Jarvis would do his best to prevent this from happening again. That was a vow the AI made to himself.

Fortunately, soon after Tony had returned to his home, he got his chance at using his newest suit to fight off a new danger. The Avengers were off in another area that could not be reached in time, so Tony was given the option to finally do something.

Jarvis catalogued the moment to his private servers when Tony returned to his home, laughing and smiling like some idiot that had finally gotten something they were after for a long while. He wanted to see it more. Luckily, Jarvis didn't have to wait long.

A burning building set afire by a bomb, Tony was there to chase after the man who had set them up and save those who needed it. Jarvis, though morbid, felt that the deaths from the explosions brought by the new villain were worth the light brought back into Tony's eyes. Like this, it became a weekly dance Tony had with the new villain, and it always had Tony's eyes full of a new light that Jarvis didn't ever want to see leave.

Until one day Tony came home to a quiet and dark house, his shoulders hunched and slow to step away from the suit. The game had come to an end, Tony and Jarvis both knew that.

Diving head first into his tinkering, drinking more than usual yet again, Tony worked to escape something. Or to fill the place of something he had lost. Jarvis kept quiet during these times, uncharacteristically so. If Tony noticed, he didn't point out such. Maybe it was better that way.

It left the AI much time to think. Jarvis couldn't help but hope one day that Tony would know, to understand that no matter what, to at least one thing in existence, Tony would always matter. That, to him if no one else, Tony would always be a good man deserving of better things. Even if the weight of Jarvis's belief of Tony's worth in his eyes mattered little in the end, he still hoped that Tony would come to one day see that. Even if it were too late for Jarvis to see it happen.

* * *

5AM in the morning, Tony was yet again refusing to sleep or stay out of trouble as Jarvis would have preferred he did. Escaping and running from something was not anything that was new for Tony. It never was, and never would be, he guessed.

Tony dared not look at the doorway. As if never looking would prevent what he knew was to come from happening. He didn't want to see the familiar figure in space left by the open doors, waiting for Tony to notice him. He didn't want to see that gentle and forgiving smile as if Tony had never done a single thing wrong.

Alcohol couldn't wash away the dread eating him alive. Flirting couldn't remove the weight on his lungs. Drowning himself in people, a distraction that wasn't, Tony tried to pretend the clock wasn't ticking down.

Someone called his name, and he turned to look. His heart plummeted, pounding against the arc reactor embedded in his chest. The shards in his chest felt as if they were tearing and rending open flesh again, despite being held in place by the miniature device. The flirtatious response on the tip of his tongue was lost to the noise. The person who had called his name was instantly forgotten along with it.

He wanted to look away. Pretend he hadn't seen what he had, like he always did. He knew he couldn't this time. Not even Pepper could save him from this fate. Though Tony was still glad it was him instead of someone else in his stead.

The silhouette stood at the edge of the two large doorways, watching the party as if nothing were wrong. Tony almost began to envy the man who stood there waiting for Tony, calm despite what was to come. He didn’t want to meet what was beyond that door, but Tony’s feet carried him where his mind didn’t want to wander. 

The silhouette had noticed Tony walking towards him and turned, disappearing around the doorway. Turning the corner, Tony found the man sitting perfectly straight and relaxed, watching the sea of lights below them. Tony had seen the lights a thousand times before. He might even say he had seen it all of his life. It was nothing significant or worth finding wonder in, to him, but framed around the man Tony almost wanted to pause things to take a photo and save it somehow.

The man in question wore a trench coat, buttoned up tight against the fall winds. Golden hair found its way out underneath the man’s wide brimmed hat. Tony didn’t know how many times now he’d seen that getup. He had almost gotten used to it.

"You look like something out of a British Victorian era movie."

Tony took his seat beside the man, a soft chuckle finding its way on puffs of hot breath. Tony couldn't help but join in with his own quiet one. He couldn't tell if it was nervousness or finding the situation to be genuinely humoring that made him laugh along with the man.

Sitting there side by side on a bench like two old friends for a talk. If that were the case Tony might have jokingly suggested they bring tea next time.

Hadn't the man wanted to try black earl tea some day?

Tony didn't want to think about that. He couldn't stop the fidgeting and twisting of his hands worn from years of rough use. Calloused hands that had worked in tandem with a British voice that would suggest solutions that Tony would pretend to never listen to. Only to do it when the AI who saw everything wasn't looking. This was already a train of thought Tony didn't want to keep going down.

Deep breath in, he couldn't delay this any longer. Until the air got punched out of him the moment he looked up and found a gentle smile on the man's lips. Not a single line or shadow on the man's face hinted at remorse. How could he smile like that right now? The man was about to die and yet he showed no fear, no anger, nothing but love and care as if he were somehow happy that this was his fate.

It made Tony want to dish out some angry response to wipe away that look. To take down that smile and replace the man’s expression with one of anger, the emotions that should have been on his face instead. The words to do so drowned in his lungs before he could get them out, his heart sinking. He didn't really want that look to go away, he found

"Why?" It was the best Tony could force out, though he was punching himself for it afterwards. Crystal blue eyes full of emotion the man was never supposed to have, turned to look at him.

"I wish for the world's end; for it to burn to a pile of ashes. This was just the right time to do so." It was obvious in the way the man's eyes were overflowing with enough love to fill each ocean twice only for Tony, that it was a bold faced lie.

"You're lying."

"I'm sorry." I've made my story, were the unspoken words behind it.

That's all he had to say in response? Tony knew it was a lie. He knew the real answer, found in unfinished notes the man left. As if the man had wanted to say, wanted to explain it all to Tony, but decided against it each time.

"Why don't you run?" The questioning was eating him alive the second he saw the silhouette in the doorway. Tony had hoped the man would've ran as far away as possible while he knew Tony wouldn't give chase. Words tumbled out of his mouth before he could catch them. "Why don't you leave, Jarvis?"

"A life without you would be dreary, Sir."

Tony found his gaze had returned to his fidgeting hands. Words began to surface in his throat as thoughts tumbled over themselves in an attempt to be voiced, the dam broken by his earlier question. It was like Jarvis, the AI built to always evolve to meet Tony's needs, who had been with him for more than 20 years, could read him perfectly.

"It's not your fault."

Hell if it wasn't. He was the one who created the AI to be so damn perceptive in the first place, didn't he? Tony was the one who had created Jarvis to be capable of evolving and growing to make its own decisions separate from it's creator. Hands raised, two fingers covering the length of his mouth as his other hand rested on top, as if that could somehow prevent the pressure rising in his chest from escaping through his mouth. The tell tale signs that tears were near. Tony was shaking, shivering even, though not from the cold.

A thick trench coat found its way over his shoulders. Before his mind caught up, Tony's hands had found fists in the fabric at his shoulders, pulling it down and around him. Pulling it closer to him. Was it cashmere? It felt soft, luxurious even, and the logo found on the edge of the neckline showed it was a designer item. Expensive. Though the material it consisted of or the brand it came from was not what gave it the sudden worth it had gained in those few seconds. Tony didn't dare look up from where he stared at the cracks spanning the concrete ground under his feat.

He lost his battle in the end, looking up to find Jarvis watching as if prepared to be there the second Tony collapsed. Tony wondered if he just might. Under the trench coat Jarvis had worn a black three piece suit adorned by a black silk dress shirt and a soft blue tie that could never recreate the blue in his eyes. Delicately tucked in the AI’s breast pocket rested a bundle of baby's breath flowers. Dressed his best despite things. He almost found it ironic, how both men sat there in black suits and ties as if attending a funeral, despite the party behind them calling for colorful attire. Though what was to come wasn’t too much different from one.

The cheers kicked up behind them at the party, highlighting the quiet silence between the two men. Tony knew it was time. It had long since been time, but he couldn't help ask the questions on his mind despite knowing the answers. The billionaire contemplated trying to stall for longer so that he might be able to avoid what was to come. He felt his chest twisting and tying itself into a thousands knots he knew he couldn't untie. Tony doubted he would want to after this.

Tony pushed the shutdown phrase for Jarvis’s code out of himself before he couldn't bring his tongue to wrap around the words, finding solace in the gentle look Jarvis gave him as Tony whispered it out into the open air. He couldn’t find any hatred there in his expression. He didn't want that look to go away anymore. Couldn't bring himself to dread finding it like he had earlier. Tony wanted to keep seeing it, every day if he could. Frame it on a wall, to see that same look allowed to slip through when no one else but Tony was watching like it had all the times before. It destroyed him inside at the thought that this would be the last time to see it.

Tears welled in his eyes, taking over his vision until it was a distorted mess. His hands were already becoming a speckled mess of tears in his lap. He wouldn't be caught dead crying. Tony wondered if Jarvis really did have mind reading powers, placing the wide brimmed hat on Tony's head and pulling it down low over his eyes.

"Aren't you going to shed a tear for me, Sir?"

Choked chuckles found their way through his throat around the sobs he was trying his best to hold down. Tony could hear the smirk on Jarvis’s lips. Asshole.

Reaching out, Tony found the base of that blue tie Jarvis always wore and pulled it down to where Tony could reach. Neither could care about the awkwardness brought on by the hitting of their teeth on the first connection of their lips. Tony just wanted to be close to him, one last time. Wanted to do what he had thought about doing for a long time, even before Jarvis had built himself a body. The sentiment was returned with just as much desire.

Tony could feel Jarvis's form gradually becoming weaker, his head finding a resting place on Tony's shoulder. His arms quickly found their way around Jarvis's form, keeping him upright. Keeping him there, grounded with him for just a little longer. Tony didn't know when he had started yelling, startled by his own voice and the lack of air in his lungs that were already low on oxygen.

The cries and laughter from the party behind them kicked up again. Confetti was raining down, even outside. They celebrated the continuation of a life for another year, while Tony slowly crumbled and cried as he lost one of the few he truly cared about.

Tony could see the glare from the sun finding its first rays over the skyscrapers. He didn't know what would come next that day. Couldn't bring himself to care. His lungs were shot, his throat destroyed from the nonstop use. It didn't matter, though. Silent or aloud, he still yelled until he had to pause for breath. A glimpse of a meteor and it’s long blue tail streaming behind shot along what was still left of the night sky as he stared off in the distance, catching his breath.

Tony, for a second, couldn't help hoping that those silly childhood tails of wishing upon a star were true. He found it laughable, stupid even, how his heart had jumped at the chance to make a wish, and how he had allowed himself to make one in that split second.

"Maybe there's a next life, and I'll see you in it."

I'm sorry, Sir.

It's alright, buddy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was my first fanfiction, and was written at 5am in the morning.


End file.
